listening ears

Two-year-olds don’t listen very well when there is only one of them, and they listen even less well when there are six of them. In those instances where two kids are crying, two more are hitting the crying ones, and the other two are pulling all the books out with no intention of putting them back, I muster up all of my patience and say, “friends, where are your listening ears?”. Some days they all look at me immediately upon hearing this, but usually I have to ask them each individually. They reach up and put their little hands on both their ears, showing me that “their listening ears are on”. In all honesty, I sometimes like when they are not listening just a little bit because it’s so incredibly cute to watch them “put their listening ears on”.

It had never really occurred to me that there might be instances where my listening ears aren’t on. Then a few days ago reality hit. My small group was doing an exercise in listening to God where we were supposed to ask him for a symbol of our relationship with him and let him lead us to it. Well, once I remembered the assignment a few days later, I asked him to show me what my symbol was. Then I went about my life, taking care of Max, working, trying to fit my relationship with Eric in there somewhere. Finally, this week, I had to admit that I hadn’t heard back from God about my symbol. “I waited,” I said, “he didn’t give me anything.” My small group leader assured me that was fine and asked me about what the whole process was like for me. I ended up talking all about Max and how he wakes up a lot at night and needs a lot of attention and on and on and on. “Do you think Max might be your symbol, Lizz?” she asked. CRAP! How could I have missed it?! Max is the symbol of everything God is trying to teach me at this stage in my life, I even blogged about it earlier this week! Crap Crap Crap. He's been trying to tell me this whole time! WHERE ARE MY LISTENING EARS?!!

I had to face the facts. When it comes to my relationship with God, I can read my bible 24/7, pray unceasingly, and love others with all that I have, but If I do not have my listening ears on, I am missing a HUGE part of a relationship with Him. How can I possibly know what He wants for me if I am not listening? How can I overcome fear, and temptation, and just plain evilness if I am not listening to Him? Well I pretty much can't. So it's time to put on my listening ears.

messy moments

In the middle of life’s little speed bumps, I usually go right to “shut down” mode. I tend to forget every good thing that ever happened me to me in my whole entire life. I’m the kind of person who grabs ice cream and a big blanket at the first sign of discomfort. Deep down I think that I may actually believe that I’m not going to be able to handle whatever pain I know is coming. I brace myself, ready to fight. It never really occurred to me to put my fists down until very recently.

I can look back on my life and remember many nights sitting on my floor in my ninja turtle Snuggie, waiting for the ground to open up and swallow me whole. I’ve been told that I am a tad bit dramatic, but regardless, I’m sure many of you can relate to my messy moments. And I am a firm believer in the healing properties of pity parties, although mine tend to last a little bit too long. They would go on for months if I let them, and sometimes I do.

When I was little and frustrated, my messy moments consisted of sprawling myself out on the cold kitchen linoleum and crying or just lying there motionless. My mom might have called it a tantrum, but I think it was more than that. The floor was the only thing that felt real to me in moments of child distress, like we had an understanding. I could just lay there with the dust mites and the crusty macaroni under the refrigerator and nothing was expected of me. But the floor wasn’t just where I fell to pieces; it was also the place where I healed. And once again, my childhood has taught me something so valuable. To crumble to the ground and rise up renewed, leaving the pain right there on the floor.

Not to say that is always the easiest thing. I still try to combat all emotions with my own strength before I crumble. I have always wished for a life without pain and maybe I still believe that experiencing pain makes me weak. 

It often seems like it would fix everything if we just didn’t experience suffering, if we never “hit the floor”. But man oh man; if I never had any floor moments I would be a complete shell of a person. All those times I’ve fallen and gotten up again, those moments of complete heartbreak and those moments of pure joy. They go hand in hand; you can’t have one without the other. So while I experience moments of deep pain. I also experience moments of deep, deep joy. And because I feel pain so deeply, I also feel joy in its purest form. I’m learning to be thankful for those bittersweet moments. The ones that come in like a lion and go out like a lamb. The moments when I’m on my knees, not because I’m praying, but because I feel as if I can’t go another step. Those moments of excruciating pain where I find the peace that passes all understanding.

i'm selfish and i know it

Selfishness is placing concern with oneself or one's own interests above the well-being or interests of others.

-Webster

I recently found myself in possession of a small puppy that a neighbor of mine found wandering in the street. He is the kind of puppy that is cute without even trying; but he is also the kind of puppy that poops everywhere, humps all the living room pillows, and doesn’t respond to “shut up” when he’s barking at 3am. He needs constant attention and when he doesn’t get it he bites or finds my favorite shoes and entertains himself. But oh the moments when he curls up on my lap with his little puppy head on my chest and watches Dawson’s Creek with me; they are too sweet to bear.

After I bawled my eyes out two nights ago about Max’s inhability to tell the difference between my carpet and the grass outside, I came to the realization that I generally don’t want to be bothered with things that upset my quaint little life. Max is a major upset in my life because he is forcing me to think about something other than myself basically all the time. Interestingly enough, I recently moved into the position of 2 year old teacher at the childcare center I work at and have found myself faced with the same challenge at work as I now have at home with Max. It cannot be all about me anymore.

I have never been a parent, but I imagine that being one would have a similar effect on someone. It is suddenly about someone else’s needs way more than your own. You may not have time to eat lunch or sleep through the night or get to relax on a Saturday anymore. So maybe I am learning this lesson a little bit earlier than some people, which must mean that I really need to get a handle on this particular area of my life.

*****IT’S NOT ALL ABOUT ME*****

And I mean that in many more ways than one. Not only is it not all about me because I am in charge of six 2-year-olds and a 2 month-old puppy, but it’s not all about me because I am one person in a big big world.

Usually when I buy coffee I scout out the cheapest brand that has a vanilla type flavor and leave it at that. I am not a coffee connoisseur, I just like to get through my day without losing my mind. Anyhow, the other day as I was picking up my coffee I noticed something. I felt guilty about buying the cheapest brand of coffee without any thought to the farmers who are paid next to nothing for all their hard work. I even began imagining their family of seven; kids in bare feet, very little food to eat, dirt floors, one room shack. Then it hit me; I am worried about spending a few extra bucks on fair trade coffee when there are people out there relying on those few extra bucks in order to live. I was a little bit ashamed of myself.

This is just one small example of my day-to-day selfishness. At times I am unaware of it, which is so much more dangerous than the times when I am able to realize it.  Selfishness is often seen as an evil quality, one that bad people have and not good people. But I disagree. We are selfish; it is a human quality. We just have to be willing to admit that and take whatever steps we need to take to be a little bit less selfish. For me that starts with buying fair trade coffee.

“It is a trait we hate in other people but justify in ourselves.” 

Stephen Kendrick